Addiction
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Thomas makes a huge mistake, but it ends up getting him closer to Gally, so he hopes it can't be THAT big of a mistake...
1. Chapter 1

-Addiction-

-Hey, beautiful readers! Here's a new fanfic for you all :)

I decided that Thomas and Gally weren't getting enough love, so I wrote this for all you Thomally fans. Right now, it's just a one-shot, but if you wanted a Part Two, I'd be happy to write it for you. Reviews are more than welcome, so let me know what you think!

By the way, this is BOOK-Gally. Not movie-Gally. Because when I write my stories, I write the way I imagined them in the books, because that's what James Dashner probably wanted us to do. So this is how I imagined Gally (without him, like, being ugly cuz Dashner made him pretty ugly :P) Hope you like what I've done with him haha-

Thomas knew he was in for a hell of a day when he woke up and had no idea where he was.

Groaning under his breath, he brought a hand up to his forehead. Tentatively, he prodded the skin there with three fingers. Aches pulsed through his head and he groaned again. Definitely not trying to stand up right now. He blinked some of the fogginess out of his eyes and studied the ceiling above him. His brow furrowed. That...was not his ceiling. He must've fallen asleep at someone's house the night before. It had to have been a party; why else would he be waking up feeling the aftereffects of being drunk? Although that was pretty odd too. Thomas didn't like to drink very much. He hardly ever touched alcohol at parties. But lying there now, he really couldn't remember the night before so he must've been drunk out of his mind.

"Jorge spiked the drinks again," he concluded in a sleepy mumble. Cautiously cradling his temple, he looked at the room more thoroughly now.

The walls were navy blue, a strange but stylish choice, he supposed. The furniture was black, but there wasn't much; just a bedside table and someone's lamp. A door to the left hinted at a closet. There was also a window at the back wall, and early morning light filtered sluggishly through it. Thomas couldn't decipher much else from the room. But something about it seemed familiar. He'd been in here before, he knew it. He struggled to push the cloud from his mind and remember SOMETHING.

All he got were flashes.

People laughing giddily in dim light.

Music blaring so loud, the bass rattled his bones.

Something sweet and sharp slipping past his lips from a cup.

Someone else's lips pressed against his in the dark.

Thomas felt a jolt in his stomach then. He hadn't...done something like that, had he? Surely, he'd know...

That was when he turned his head to the right at last, and he saw exactly what he was lying on and who he was lying there with. His heart froze in his chest.

Oh my God.

He was in a bed. A very rumpled bed, with thrown-about pillows and twisted, black sheets. The covers held a scent to them, that was familiar, but certainly not his. But this wasn't what made his blood chill in his veins. It was the boy stretched out beside him. This boy was halfway under the sheets, and as far as Thomas could tell, he was wearing nothing. Skin tanned from working outside for long hours rippled over hard muscle, especially in his arms. His eyes were closed, the lashes twitching softly in sleep. Hair as black as night flopped across his forehead and into his eyes. His arms were sprawled carelessly around his head, one tucked under the pillow, the other up above him. He laid on his back. His chest rose and fell every time he breathed, and there was something sensual in the way his lips parted slightly.

He was the most gorgeous thing Thomas had ever laid eyes on.

There was just one, tiny, little problem.

THIS WAS GALLY.

"Oh, shuck," Thomas muttered, and immediately sat up. He swung his head up so fast, the room tottered and he had to pause for a few seconds. As he waited for the nausea to fade, he glanced down at himself. He inwardly cursed at whoever had spiked those damn drinks last night. He was completely shirtless. He thanked every god he'd ever heard of that at least he was wearing pants, though they were unzipped and pushed so low, he didn't even want to think about what he'd been doing. Careful to move quietly, but quickly, he swung his legs out of bed and stood up. As he tugged his jeans up again, he found his white T-shirt forgotten on the floor. Snagging it in a hand, he snuck a glance back at Gally.

The other boy was still asleep, looking much too innocent and way too beautiful. Apparently, Thomas had never gotten over that long-buried crush of his. "Shuck," he hissed again, suddenly bombarded by fear of what he'd done.

He'd slept with Gally.

He'd gotten drunk, and he'd slept with GALLY, and he couldn't remember it.

"Oh, this is bad," he muttered, throwing his shirt on and leaving the room to search for his shoes. "This is really really bad."

It was such a shucking understatement.

-x-x-x-

"Okay, I gotta ask you guys something, but I want you to promise that you won't laugh or anything, all right? Especially you, Minho."

Thomas hadn't known where else to turn to. He was going out of his mind ever since sneaking out of Gally's place that morning. How could he have done something so stupid? This was going to ruin his entire friendship with Gally, and that was only thing that kept him sane sometimes. He needed advice. So he'd called the only people he knew that actually had everything figured out between them.

Newt and Minho were sitting in front of him right now, across a little red table outside of some restaurant in town. There was outdoor seating, with similar tables and cute red-and-white umbrellas above them. And since Thomas didn't want to talk about this around other people, he'd taken advantage of the fact that not many people were outside right now. Only a few other tables were occupied, but they were all a decent distance away. He linked his fingers together under the table and clenched them so tightly, the knuckles turned white.

Newt's eyebrows rose in surprise at Thomas's question. "Sure, you can ask us anything," he replied good-naturedly, because Newt always helped when he could. "We won't laugh. ...right, Minho?"

Minho, who was busy sipping Coke through a straw, gave a perfect who-me? expression. "Course not," he answered lightly. But his slight smirk betrayed him and Newt, who had an arm around Minho's waist, dug a finger into his side. Minho squeaked and muttered, "I won't laugh," glumly.

Thomas took a breath, then let it out. He glanced nervously around them, as though fearing that Gally would come out of nowhere at any second. He opened his mouth to speak, but then just shut it again.

Minho huffed impatiently. "Shuck, Thomas, what is it?" he asked.

Thomas cleared his throat shakily. "Okay, um," he began, and then he blurted out quickly, "have you ever gotten drunk and then had sex with someone, only you can't really remember it afterward, but you know it happened?" He clamped his mouth shut once he finished, brown eyes darting between the two anxiously.

Newt's jaw dropped and Minho stared at Thomas in silence for a few seconds. "Uhh, Thomas," Newt began very slowly, "what the hell did you do?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Thomas mumbled dejectedly.

"The answer's yes, by the way," Minho added, almost as an afterthought.

Newt's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, the answer's yes?" he asked in confusion.

"I've had drunken sex with someone before."

"WHAT?"

Thomas glanced up hopefully. He didn't want to be the only one that had made this catastrophic mistake. "Seriously?"

Minho shrugged. "Sure," he answered, unbothered. "It was like, three years ago, up at Siren's Para—"

"I thought we weren't gonna talk about that!" Newt protested, cutting Minho off. His face flushed crimson and he kept his eyes trained on the table in front of him.

Minho's mouth curved into a rakish smile. "Oh, yeah, I forgot," he teased. "You still don't want anyone to know that you're not such an angel after all..." He tugged at the neckline of Newt's Maroon 5 T-shirt and Newt batted his hand away in response.

"Shut up, Min," Newt hissed, storm-blue eyes flashing, though the use of Minho's nickname hinted that he wasn't all that mad.

Thomas tipped his head back and groaned in despair. "Oh great, I really did screw up."

Minho sobered then, studying Thomas through puzzled, obsidian eyes. "What's wrong? I just told you, we did the same thing."

"Yeah, but you guys are married."

"Well, yeah, but still."

"I am so shucking screwed."

"What'd you do?" Minho cracked a joking grin then and lifted his drink to his lips again. "Sleep with Gally?"

Thomas hung his head in shame. "Yes," he muttered.

Minho choked on his drink, and Newt's eyes widened. "Ohhhhh," Newt said in new understanding, and then in sympathy. "Oh, so this really is bad."

"Uh-huh."

"Did you...just find out this morning?"

"Uh-huh." Thomas's answer became gloomier as he spoke.

"And you snuck out, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And he still doesn't know?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow." Newt scratched his head, pushing blonde bangs out of his face as he did. "That's a tough one."

Minho, on the other hand, was suppressing a snort of laughter. "Wait, wait, you had drunken sex with Gally?" he asked, unable to keep some of the glee out of his voice. "And then you snuck out of his house?"

Thomas nodded.

"Oh man. I knew it." Minho shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips. "I knew you guys were gonna get it on eventually."

Both Newt and Thomas deadpanned, "Minho, shut up."

To his credit, Minho looked a little scolded. "Sorry."

Newt leaned back against his seat, keeping his arm around Minho's waist. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I dunno, Thomas, maybe you should just talk to him."

Thomas considered that. The very thought of talking to Gally about the whole, ugly situation made him sick. He shook his head. "No way. Not gonna happen."

"You're gonna HAVE to see him eventually," Newt pointed out. "What're you planning on doing, avoiding him for the rest of your life?"

"Well, no..."

"Then you better talk to him now."

Thomas heaved a very long breath of resignation. "I know," he admitted. "You're right. It's just...I never wanted it to be like this, you know?" He shoved his fawn-colored hair back out of his face and propped his chin up on his hand. He knew that what he was about to say would sound super-cheesy, but he didn't care. "I always thought when I finally found someone, it'd be perfect," he said quietly.

Minho gave a half-smile. "Love doesn't always work like that," he told Thomas. "Nobody's perfect."

"You are."

Silence.

Thomas didn't glance up from his fingers tapping worriedly on the table. Minho blinked in shock, eyebrows rising. Newt's gaze flitted back and forth between them warily. After a moment, he surprised them by tightening his arm around Minho. "He's mine."

Thomas's eyes widened. "Oh—Crap, no I didn't mean it like that," he stammered, lifting his hands in an innocent gesture.

"Then why'd you say it?" Minho asked carefully.

"I meant, you're perfect for each other," Thomas explained. "You're lucky. Everything worked out for you two, and then you got married, and now you have this." He gestured at the two of them. Minho and Newt exchanged glances, and a light blush appeared in Newt's cheeks. "And the whole time, I saw you guys together and...I dunno...I wish I had that." He rested his back against his chair and bitterness crept into his voice. "And now, I finally had my chance with Gally and I blew it."

Newt's expression softened. "You didn't blow it, Thomas," he argued gently. "You started out a little bit badly, but you didn't blow it yet. Go and talk to him."

"I dunno..." Thomas trailed off, unsure and afraid.

"If you don't get this straightened out now, you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life," Newt told him.

Thomas's eyes grew round. "I will?"

"Yeah, you will."

Minho plucked his drink off of the table again and gestured importantly with it. "Think about it this way, Thomas: imagine how many regrets I'd have right now, if I'd never had the guts to walk across a hallway and talk to the new kid at school." He took a sip and beside him, Newt was smiling. "We wouldn't even be having this conversation right now. So GO TALK TO GALLY."

Thomas glanced between his two friends, his two best friends in the world. He trusted Newt and Minho more than he trusted a lot of people, because they'd been friends since high school. That bond was something no one could take from them. And if these two people believed that Thomas could still make this right, then he was going to try and make it right. Feeling a little less sick now, he nodded. "Okay. I'll go see Gally."

"Damn right you will," Minho quipped. "I was afraid I was gonna have to drag you over there myself."

Newt scoldingly poked him in the side again.

-x-x-x-

Gally, on the other hand, had only been awake for a mere half hour. It was evening already. Which meant that'd he'd slept through most of the day. He didn't even want to THINK about last night, or stupid people bringing their own alcohol, or the even more stupid choices he'd made after drinking said alcohol.

Right now, he just wanted to lay his head on the kitchen counter for a while longer.

The cool, black surface felt good on his aching head. Groaning softly at his damn headache, he switched positions so that his arms were on either side of his head; his temple rested against the counter, black hair fanning out over it. One arm was sprawled across the counter. The other was holding a mug of steaming tea. He hadn't even attempted to drink the hot liquid yet. When he'd woken up, groggy and dazed, he hadn't even paused to look for anyone else in the house. He'd trudged straight down the hall and into the bathroom. After a shower, he'd then shuffled back down the same hall to his room. There, he'd thrown on black sweatpants and a gray tank top, not caring that they were the laziest clothes he owned. After THAT, he'd ended up here, in the kitchen, thoroughly hating life.

Now, Gally didn't remember much from the night before. But he remembered enough to know that SOMETHING had happened between him and another person. Who that person was, he didn't know. All he saw behind his closed eyelids were erratic images blurring past: rainbow lights spearing the darkness, people's arms flailing to music, someone's breath at his neck, nails at his back. But the faces were smeared into nothingness. He had no idea who he'd slept with. It was driving him mad.

"Better not have been shucking Brenda," he muttered into the counter. "Or I will hang myself." It was probably Winston. He was this short-haired, stocky guy that went to Gally's gym sometimes. He was constantly checking other guys out, and right before the party, he'd practically been drooling over Gally. Gally shoved his fingers through his hair, tousling it even further. "I take it back," he mumbled to himself. "If it was WINSTON, I'm hanging myself." Heaving a long breath, he slid his mug toward him.

Suddenly, a quiet knock sounded from his door.

Blinking blearily, Gally pushed himself into a sloppy upright position. Squinting at the front door only a few feet to the right, he wondered who the hell wanted to talk to him. He'd much rather try to fall asleep on this counter, thank you very much. Resigned to his fate, he slid off his stool and padded barefoot to the front door. He left his tea at the counter because he honestly didn't trust himself with carrying anything right now. Grabbing the doorknob, he pulled the door open and narrowed his eyes into the golden sunlight.

A boy with shy, coffee-colored eyes stood shifting his feet back and forth in front of him. "Hi," Thomas said in a small voice.

Gally, messy-haired, with his crooked, too-low sweatpants and icy green eyes, felt like such a wreck standing there in front of Thomas. But he still didn't want to put in the effort to look better. "Hi," he replied flatly.

"Um. I was hoping, that maybe I could...come in? A—and talk?" Thomas's face was burning red right now, right to his ears.

Gally wrinkled his nose. "Something wrong?"

"Er...No. Well, I mean, maybe. I mean, I need to talk to you about it." Thomas shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets.

Gally couldn't figure out why Thomas was acting like he murdered someone, but it was the least of his worries at the moment. So he shrugged and waved Thomas in. "Come in then. I have tea or coffee or whatever."

Thomas's posture stayed straight as a board as he hurried past Gally and into the house. Puzzled and still-sleepy, Gally shut the door and followed the other boy. Thomas was in the kitchen, by the center island. But he wasn't sitting on a stool and he wasn't leaning against it. He stood there, his arms now crossed and his fingers tapping out a nervous beat at his elbows. Gally wasn't sure what to make of this strange behavior. But in his current state, he decided to let Thomas do most of the talking. Making his way back to his stool, he took a seat and leaned his elbow on the counter. "You want anything?" he asked, motioning to his mug before setting his chin atop his hand.

"N—no, that's fine," Thomas stammered.

"All right. You uh, leave something here after the party?"

Thomas paled, but shook his head. "No."

"Okay then." Gally lifted his mug and took a long sip. The liquid felt satisfyingly warm as it travelled down his throat and the steam was hot on his face. He hoped the caffeine would wake him up a bit. "So, what did you come over for?" he asked curiously.

Thomas took a very deep breath, and then blurted out, "IgotdrunkatthepartyandwokeupherebecauseIsortofsleptwithyou."

Gally spit his tea right back into the mug. He raised his head and gaped at Thomas through wide eyes. "You...We...WHAT?"

Thomas was shrinking away. "You mean you didn't know?" he asked.

"No, I didn't know! I knew I slept with someone, but I didn't know who it was!" Gally's mind spun in new, heart-stopping dread. "It was YOU?"

Thomas nodded, looking small and scared.

Gally couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Out of all the people it could've been, it had to be the one he cared about. The one he dreamed about. It wasn't possible. He racked his brain, ordered it to remember. But he never got one glimpse of Thomas's face from his foggy memories. Numbly, he set his mug down on the counter with a clink. He'd had sex with Thomas. Thomas, who was his best friend. Thomas, who was too kind and selfless all the time. Thomas, who drove Gally crazy to the point where he'd be mumbling Thomas's name in his sleep.

God, was there nothing that Gally couldn't screw up?

"What...what all do you remember?" he asked slowly.

"Not much," Thomas admitted. "Just bits and pieces. But I knew it was you."

"How?"

"I woke up here this morning."

Gally knew the blood drained out of his face. He'd woken up at noon, barely under the covers, and wearing absolutely nothing. It was like a punch to the gut to know that Thomas had seen him like that. He wanted to say he was sorry, and that he was a horrible person for letting this happen at his own party. But that wasn't what he said. Instead, he asked, "why didn't you stay?"

Thomas stared at him. "W—what?"

"Why didn't you stay, this morning?" Gally asked again. "You didn't have to leave. You could've woken me up and, I dunno, explain everything."

"Would you have understood?" Thomas asked.

"Sure."

"You wouldn't have freaked out and kicked me out?"

"...no, I wouldn't."

"Uh-huh," Thomas replied, unconvinced. He blew out, strands of sandy hair lifting from his forehead. "Listen, Gally..." Grabbing a stool, he scooted it over beside Gally's and sat down. "This was a mistake. A really bad mistake. I shouldn't have gotten as drunk as I did and—"

"We both got stupidly drunk," Gally pointed out.

"Yeah, okay, but still." Thomas rested his elbows on the counter. "I feel like I stomped all over our friendship. I don't know how you can even look at me right now."

Gally couldn't look away.

"But I needed to come over here and at least talk to you about it. So, I'm here."

Don't ever leave.

"And I'm sorry."

Gally stared at Thomas.

Thomas stared back at Gally.

"I'm gonna do something really stupid now," Gally stated, and he pressed his mouth against Thomas's.

There was a single, tiny gasp that tore itself out of Thomas in surprise. Then he was gripping the front of Gally's shirt and kissing him back hungrily. Gally's senses lit up. Thomas's knuckles brushed his skin through his tank top and it was like sparks skittered through him. If this was what kissing Thomas was like, then he never wanted to be drunk while doing it again. He wanted to remember every single, blissful second of this. Though he was obviously desperate for more, Thomas was polite in the way he kissed. He kept his hands in the front of Gally's shirt and let Gally take the lead. Gally gladly took it.

Grabbing for Thomas's waist, Gally stood up and took the brunette with him. He stepped forward and forced Thomas back into the opposite wall. Thomas let himself be trapped between Gally's arms and never let his hands wander farther than Gally's shoulders. Growling under his breath, Gally kissed Thomas harder, the brunette's head falling back against the wall. Thomas let out a weak sound into Gally's mouth and his fingers trembled at Gally's neck. It wasn't enough. Gally wanted more. He didn't want the bashful, polite Thomas everyone saw all the time. He wanted something else, something wicked enough to keep him up at night, shivering with remembered touches.

Gally broke the kiss and ignored Thomas's whimper of disappointment. Instead, he kissed his way down Thomas's neck, scraping his teeth over the skin possessively. "Gally," Thomas warned breathlessly, even as his head tipped to let Gally have more skin. Pushing all chasteness aside, Gally shoved his hands up Thomas's shirt. He felt the gorgeous arch of Thomas's back as the brunette sucked in a breath. His fingers trailed over the toned muscle of Thomas's stomach and he let his palms feel every inch of Thomas's chest. He ached to have Thomas touching him like this.

Moaning low in his throat, Thomas hooked a leg around Gally's to keep him from moving away. Slipping his hands out from under his shirt, Gally snatched Thomas's wrists and pinned them to the wall. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" he asked huskily, and he watched Thomas's desire-stained eyes open and fix on him. "Do you long I've shucking waited?"

Thomas's chest was pressed to Gally's, trapped between the wall and Gally's body. "What were you waiting for?" he asked, voice trembly with their closeness.

"For you to say you felt something for me."

"I was too afraid." Thomas tilted his chin up, brushing their lips together. "You could've had me anytime you wanted," he confessed in a murmur. "I would've done whatever you wanted, Gally. I still would."

Gally whined out loud at the words and dropped Thomas's wrists to grab his hips instead. He pulled Thomas off the wall, backing up toward a hallway off to the side. "Where are we going?" Thomas asked in cute confusion, still dazed as he tangled his fingers in Gally's hair.

"Bedroom," Gally answered, and Thomas's knees went weak. Gally flashed him the devil's smirk. "I'm not letting you get away this time."

Thomas shuddered in Gally's arms. "I couldn't leave you again, even if I wanted to."

Gally kicked the door shut behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

-Welll, I wasn't gonna write this, but then I couldn't resist... Does that make me a bad person for wanting to write this, hahaha XD Anyway, this is your part two, wonderful readers! We learn a little about Gally and well, Thomas stays his adorable (yet undeniably sexy) self. ;)

Let me know what you think! Reviews make me incredibly happy, and I'd love to write more for these guys, so leave a request or two :)-

It started like lightning, hurried and almost needy, because of course Gally would take the lead the way like he always did.

Thomas's head was spinning as Gally kept taking steps forward, making Thomas stumble back. Gally's arms were holding him up, strong around his waist, and he kept his hold on Gally's shoulders. But then Gally's hands slipped away to plant on Thomas's chest, pushing him back onto the bed. Landing on the mattress with a muffled thump, Thomas felt all sense fly away from him. It wasn't the same as the first time, at the party, but there was still a drunkenness to it. He couldn't help it. Gally was such an addiction.

"Thomas," Gally breathed out, the name spoken like a sacred word. He slid over Thomas, straddling his hips and holding himself up on his forearms. Mussed raven hair fell across his forehead and the sure lines of his eyebrows.

Thomas felt like he couldn't move with this much fire in his veins, but his arms found themselves around Gally's neck anyway. "Just don't stop," he murmured, before leaning up and kissing Gally again.

Gally made a low, wanting sound in the back of his throat. Threading the fingers of one hand in Thomas's hair, he angled his head to take control of the kiss. His lips parted Thomas's, their breaths shared between them, and Thomas whimpered. Gally kissed the way he did everything else: wild, and reckless, and like he knew he had absolute control. He licked at Thomas's lips once and Thomas gasped, the sound trapped when Gally locked their mouths together again. Shaking just from the way he was being kissed, Thomas slipped his hands to the back of Gally's neck. His fingertips inched under the back of Gally's tank top, searching for more smooth, tanned skin. When Gally finally broke away to gasp for air, Thomas pulled in a breath; Gally's scent hit him, the smell of soap and something like spice, and it made him lightheaded. With a shiver, he wondered if Gally's skin tasted like that too.

"God, Thomas," Gally managed breathlessly, nuzzling into the crook of Thomas's neck. He brushed his lips over the soft skin there and Thomas thought he felt Gally smirk wickedly. That was right before Gally's hips ground into his and Thomas lost all control of himself. He tightened his grip in the back of Gally's shirt, his head falling back as Gally rocked their hips together again. The fluid way that Gally's body moved over him was intoxicating. Thomas bit his lip on a whine of pleasure as Gally pressed against him over his jeans again. God, they hadn't even taken any clothes off yet and already, he was a mess. Gally's pants huffed in his ear, telling him that the other boy was just as turned on.

Feeling a little daring, Thomas took the back of Gally's head and whispered in his ear, "I want you to take your shirt off."

Even though he was clearly the dominant one here, Gally still whimpered when he heard Thomas say that. "Dammit, Edison," he growled, sitting up and raking his hands through his tousled hair. He took one look at Thomas's foggy, deep brown eyes looking at him and grudgingly grabbed the hem of his tank top. He took it off slowly, taking his time and letting Thomas see the bend and flex of every muscle. Gally worked for a landscaping company so his body was lithe and strong, his skin permanently sun-kissed. He had quite a few scars too, small nicks and scratches on his hands, arms and shoulders. There was one big one, a slash across his stomach; instead of being a straight line, it rippled over the toned strength of his abs. He arched a brow at Thomas as though to say, there, so what do you think?

Thomas couldn't think, actually. He tentatively traced the line of Gally's scar with his fingers. "You're beautiful," he mumbled shyly.

Gally stared at him like he couldn't believe how adorable Thomas was acting. "Oh hell," he muttered and bent back down to kiss Thomas again.

Thomas was drowning fast, his mouth under Gally's, his hands splayed on Gally's shoulders, Gally's hands tearing his shirt up his chest. He let Gally tug his shirt off the rest of the way and toss it on the floor. Then, God, Gally's hands were on HIM, skin on skin. They ran down his chest, and skimmed over his arms. Flames leaped up under his fingers and Thomas mewled. "What do you want now?" Gally asked huskily, biting at Thomas's lower lip.

"I wanna kiss your scar," Thomas moaned into Gally's mouth.

Gally shuddered at the answer, but instead of giving Thomas what he wanted, he ducked down to Thomas's throat. Kissing roughly, he left a hot trail down to Thomas's collarbone. His tongue dipped into the hollow there at the base of his throat and Thomas gasped, tilting his head back. His fingers searched for a better hold on Gally's shoulders. Gally grinned devilishly against Thomas's collarbone, knowing full well that he was driving the brunette out of his mind. He traced a scorching line up the side of Thomas's neck with his tongue, reveling in the taste of the smooth skin. Thomas clutched at Gally's shoulders as Gally reached his ear and wickedly licked the curve of it once. "You wanna know what I want, Thomas?" he asked softly, blowing lightly on Thomas's ear.

Thomas squirmed under him, bronze hair too rumpled, jeans too low, and a perfect mess to Gally. "What?" he asked in an exhale.

"I want you," Gally murmured into Thomas's ear. "I want all of you, now, and I never want anyone else to have you again." He caught Thomas's earlobe between his teeth, issuing a hiss from the younger boy. "What do you say to that, Edison?"

Thomas bent his head back on the mattress, baring the lovely, silken curve of his neck. "What're you waiting for?" he asked lowly, his eyes dark with heat and fixed only on Gally.

Gally had never been so desperate for someone else in that moment. Without hesitation, he bent to kiss Thomas's shoulder, his hand gliding down the brunette's body to his jeans. It was frustratingly hard to get someone's pants open with one hand, but he needed the other to hold himself up. "Dammit," he muttered against Thomas's shoulder, his fingernails scratching uselessly over the button.

"Having trouble?" Thomas asked teasingly.

Gally glared and nipped at Thomas's shoulder. "Take your shucking pants off."

Thomas laughed, but did as he was told, undoing his jeans and lifting his hips to push them down. Gally felt a needy shudder run the length of his body; it was taking too long. He used one foot to shove Thomas's pants off the rest of the way until they flopped onto the floor in a heap. Then Thomas surprised him. He planted his hands firmly on Gally's shoulders and gave a hard shove, flipping them over. Gally's back hit the mattress with a thump and he was so used to being the dominant one, that he stared at Thomas with wide eyes. Thomas had a smug curve to his lips as he sat up, straddling Gally's hips. Reaching down, he tugged at the waistband of Gally's sweatpants. "I want these off too," he stated, so unlike him that it made Gally's blood sing in his veins.

Gally propped himself up on his elbows. "Take them off yourself, then," he returned.

Thomas smirked and obediently pulled Gally's sweatpants down, sliding back on the bed to get them past his knees. Then a flush leaped up into his face and he squeaked. "Wait, you weren't wearing anything under these?!" he yelped, trying (and failing miserably) to keep his eyes on Gally's face.

"Nope," Gally answered carelessly. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he closed his knees over Thomas's waist and flipped them over again. Grinning evilly, he slid down to kiss the brunette's chest. "My eyes are up here, by the way," he mumbled against Thomas's skin.

"Shut up," Thomas muttered embarrassedly, splaying his hands over Gally's back.

Gally listened for once, too focused on kissing the creamy skin of Thomas's chest. As he did, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Thomas's briefs. "Take these off, too," he breathed out, flicking his tongue over Thomas's skin.

Thomas mewled under him, and Gally swore it was the hottest sound he'd ever heard. Dipping his thumbs into his waistband, Thomas released a shaky breath as he peeled his clothing down. When it was off, he was left shivering under Gally. Gally pressed their foreheads together, pinning Thomas between his arms on the mattress. He could feel Thomas's short breaths. "Are you nervous?" he asked, so hushed, he almost didn't hear himself say it.

Thomas nodded once.

"Don't be," Gally whispered. "Not with me. Because I—" He stopped himself, startled at he'd been about to say. Because I love you.

Thomas didn't question him. He wrapped his arms around Gally's neck and pulled him impossibly closer. "Okay," he murmured. Giving himself up, just like that.

Gally couldn't imagine that anyone else could make him feel like this. He curled the fingers of one hand under Thomas's knee and hiked his leg up on Gally's shoulder. He slotted himself between Thomas's legs, but then he saw the way Thomas trembled. His heart melted. Leaning down, he pressed their mouths together in a searing kiss. Thomas let out a soft sound and kissed back, grabbing for the back of Gally's neck. He stopped trembling. Carefully, Gally pushed his hips forward and sank into Thomas for only the second time. He had to break the kiss to gasp because nothing has ever felt like this before. Thomas dug his nails into Gally's back, panting beautifully. Gally knew that he wasn't going to be able to stop. He pulled back and rocked into Thomas again. His name sounded like music when it tore out of Thomas's lips. "Gally—Please—"

Even in his deepest dreams, Gally had never heard Thomas like this. He continued grinding into Thomas, rougher each time, but not caring. Pleasure was lighting him on fire and he couldn't see straight anymore. Thomas's nails raked down his back as he lifted his hips up to meet Gally's ragged movements, and Gally groaned out loud. How could he have been drunk during this? How could he not remember every incredible part of being with Thomas? "Thomas," he mumbled, the name repeating itself over and over again as he gripped Thomas's hips and drove harder into him. His mind was spinning and he couldn't control himself anymore. Not with Thomas looking so gorgeously wrecked under him, these tiny breathy sounds escaping him every time Gally rocked into him. He dragged harshly into Thomas once, and Thomas threw his head back with a whimper of ecstasy. Just the way he looked then could've made Gally come. Electricity danced between them in the darkening room, as night drifted lower in the sky.

-x-x-x-

Gally didn't know how many times they made love that night. It was all a a blur of harsh breaths, and fingers on skin, and Thomas's needy, broken voice. He'd never experienced anything so obscenely fantastic before, and he knew deep inside that he'd never get tired of this. They were curled up together in bed now, darkness completely fallen over the room. A square patch of silvery moonlight fell out on Gally's floor as the moon rose in the sky. From the tangle of sheets and skin, Gally could feel himself edging farther and farther into sleep. It tugged at his mind and muffled his senses. Shifting to a better position on his back, he closed his eyes.

A shy, sleep-husky voice dragged him back to wakefulness. "Gally?"

Gally grunted half in sleepiness and half in question. "Hm?"

"Was...was this a one-night thing?"

Gally opened his eyes then and looked down at the other boy. Thomas was gazing up at him in the dark, his eyes open, and nervous, and even a little sad. His hair was rumpled, and the bare curve of his shoulder was lit to silver by the moon. When Gally glanced down at him, he shifted his gaze away. Gally sighed. "Normally," he said quietly, "I'd say yes."

Hurt flashed in Thomas's eyes. "Oh," he mumbled. "So...you've done this before."

"Yeah." Gally averted his gaze, staring up at the ceiling instead. "It's not something I'm really proud of, you know?"

Thomas hummed in reply. Absently, he trailed his fingertips back and forth over Gally's chest. "How many?" he asked.

Gally turned his head to look at Thomas again. "None of them meant anything."

"Yeah, but how many, Gally?"

Gally blew out heavily, dragging a hand over his face. "I don't know," he confessed. "A lot."

Thomas swallowed. "Okay." Then bitterness crept into his voice. "So I'm just another name on the list then."

Gally didn't answer. He was too busy remembering how to breathe.

Thomas moved with a rustle of sheets, propping himself up on an elbow. "I'm just—just another guy you fooled around with," he went on, sharper. "And God, I even thought—" He broke off, bowed his head in shame and sorrow. "Forget it." He started to push himself up to find his clothes.

Abruptly, Gally sat up and grabbed Thomas by the arm. Thomas halted, searching Gally's face worriedly. Gally didn't speak. He reached up and gently stroked his thumb over Thomas's cheek. Thomas's eyelids fluttered shut, a pained sound escaping him. Cupping the back of Thomas's neck, Gally yanked the other boy's mouth onto his. Thomas kissed him back instantly, his lips soft, yet demanding on Gally's in the moonlight. Gally didn't hesitate to take the kiss deeper, finding Thomas's tongue with his own and stealing his breath. He needed this. He needed Thomas.

After a few moments, they broke apart, breathing unevenly. Gally leaned his forehead against Thomas's and closed his eyes. He wasn't used to feeling like this or talking about this, but he had to try because Thomas needed to hear it. "You're not just another guy I slept with," he whispered softly. "You're the one I want to wake up with every morning. You're the one I want to make stupid inside jokes with, and share my clothes with when you're cold, and go out to cheesy, romance movies with just so we can make out in the back row. I wanna see you smile every day and touch you every night, even if it's just holding you." He paused and Thomas stared at him, shocked. Gally ran a hand through Thomas's hair. "Thomas, I'm in love with you," he breathed. "I've been in love with you for so long, and I see that now. So please...don't think that you're nothing special."

Thomas was silent for a long moment. "Gally..." He trailed off, then broke into a wide smile. A giddy laugh burst from him. "I love you," he blurted out, and pressed his lips to Gally's again.

"I love you, too," Gally mumbled into Thomas's mouth, a grin threatening to surface even as they kissed. He brought his hands to Thomas's shoulders as he felt himself slipping into bliss.

Thomas placed his hands on Gally's chest, and they sank back down into bed together.

They were definitely going to remember this the next day.


End file.
